


death begets life

by timelordswillwasteyou



Series: the sunflowers know [1]
Category: Code Geass
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:07:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordswillwasteyou/pseuds/timelordswillwasteyou
Summary: The seasons have changed, and life has gone on. For everyone except him.





	death begets life

The wind blows gently through the sunflowers as they raise their petals toward the bright sun, turning to it as if reaching to embrace an old lover. Its light caresses the fields of flowers and grass, which preen under the attention from their life force. It is fall, and the weather is traitorously beautiful, the wildflowers traitorously alive. The leaves are beginning to brown and tumble to the ground, carried by the wind, their death and decay sustaining new life. Their sacrifice will bring about a new season, a new era, a time to honor the past while starting anew.

But why must they die that others may thrive?

-

Hours later, the sun has dipped low in the sky, coloring it in pinks and oranges. The breeze still rustles the grass, but it is nowhere near strong enough to move the sturdy stone proudly protruding from the earth or to carry away the fat tears sliding down his face.

There is movement out of the corner of his eye. Not the sunflowers or the falling leaves. He turns his head, neck sore from not moving for many hours (or days, years, he no longer knows or cares). The small hut they once shared still stands. (It seemed so much bigger back then. Now, it looks forgotten and so, so small.) On the steps of the front porch, there are two children, their wooden sparring swords laying forgotten at their sides. The smaller boy hands the taller one a messily folded paper crane; the taller boy reaches to hand the smaller one a sunflower, then thinks better of it and tucks it behind an ear instead, the smaller boy’s dark hair falling over it in sharp contrast to its sunny color. The taller boy giggles at the sight; his friend’s face is dwarfed by the large flower, and it looks a little ridiculous, but after a second the flower-wearing boy just smiles fondly and leans into the other’s side. Together, they turn and look at him, eyes happy. He has to blink a fresh wave of tears away, and when he reopens his eyes, the boys are gone. He chokes on another sob, takes in a trembling breath, turns to look back at the stone. Leans down, traces the words engraved into its smooth surface for the thousandth time.

_The true resting place of_  
_Lelouch Lamperouge_  
_2000-2018_  
_who sacrificed everything for love_  
_May his death create life anew._

A simple epitaph, one he was surprised to have gotten away with, as any words portraying Lelouch in such a positive light have since been forbidden. But it was his idea, also, to change the last name, removing the poisonous royal title and instead letting his childhood friend rest with his chosen name. It is not as if anyone but him will ever visit this place, anyway; no one else is even aware of its existence. So it is just him, he and his memories and tears and hallucinations and this nondescript stone, and when he closes his eyes to escape all of this all he sees are wide violet ones staring back, shining brightly even as the light in them slowly fades.

A falling leaf brushes against his face. The old dying so the new may thrive. Death begets life begets death begets life. He reaches up, takes the leaf in his hand. Stares at it for a moment, then crunches it in his fist, his eyes again closing against newly born tears.

Why did it have to be him?


End file.
